


talk

by perseajackson



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: elis is older than kieran by 2 years, elis is slythering kieran is gryffindor, just kinda brotherly bonding, kieran is trans which i mention cause his transition is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26711524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perseajackson/pseuds/perseajackson
Summary: there's been some distance between brothers elis and kieran davies for a while, in no small part due to their separate relationships with their parents, or lack thereof, in elis's case.they stand on a bridge on the outskirts of campus chatting. it is mid-fall semester of elis's seventh year, kieran's sixth year.
Relationships: Brothers - Relationship





	talk

**Author's Note:**

> just posting oc stuff for my own organization. will probably revise this later. this is all really just for me
> 
> everything is written in kieran's voice, supposed to be like all his inner voice and stuff, so it's very dramatic and properly/kinda awkwardly written at parts. idk i just went for it, had fun with my baby son

“Are you going to speak to them? At the graduation celebration?” Kieran asks quietly, picking at a splinter piece of wood on the railing.

Elis sighs, and Kieran feels his weight shift as he leans against the banister. “I suppose I’ll have to, won’t I?”

Kieran grimaces down at the wood and decides to be blunt with his brother. “Is it really so terrible? Is it truly so dreadful to simply have a conversation with them?”

“Yes, it is,” Elis says bitterly, huffing out a breath of his own. “I’ve made it as clear as possible that I want nothing to do with them, Kie. I don’t suppose you’re going to try to tell me they’ve changed? That they’re worth having a relationship with now?” Kieran’s heart fractures for the nth time at hearing the resentment and underlying anger in his brother’s voice.

“I don’t know if they’re different,” Kieran mumbles, plucking off the chip of wood and examining it briefly before flicking it down into the chasm below. “I just know they love us very much. And they miss us, you especially.”

Elis scoffs quietly. Kieran keeps his eyes on the wood as he begins chipping off another splinter. “I know they love us,” Elis says with resignation after a moment. “But they’ve always hated each other more than they loved us. They neglected us, cared for us second to how much they were obsessed with arguing with each other. That’s why I left; couldn’t stand the arguing then, and I still can’t stand it now. Every other word between them is passive aggressive. It’s exhausting, and it’s depressing.”

“I wonder sometimes if things would be different now if the four of us sat down and talked. Made terms and tried to establish a new relationship between us,” Kieran remarks truthfully. 

“You honestly believe they’d listen to us? To me? To you?” Elis says with almost amusement mixed with disbelief in his tone. Kieran feels Elis looking at him now, but he keeps his eyes down, his shoulders hunching forward more, just slightly.

“I think they’d hear us out,” Kieran admits evenly. “I think they’d make an effort to give our family a fresh start if we do.”

“You mean if _I_ do,” Elis says with a bit of a sneer. Kieran frowns and snaps the chip of wood with a sigh. He stays silent, unsure of what to say next, but he feels Elis shift his position again, and he thinks Elis is facing out towards the chasm now. “How do you stand it? Still seeing them, being around them, speaking with them, staying at their house?” he asks in a quieter but curious tone. Kieran wonders if the edge to his voice might be jealousy of some sort. The notion is almost enough to make him laugh. Almost.

“It isn’t all the time. And I’m more grown now. Things are easier. They love me. It makes them happy for me to spend time with them, and I… want them to be happy,” he admits, swallowing hard as emotion threatens to crawl up his throat.

“I’ve wondered for a while if you mostly just put up with them because they fund your hormone therapies,” Elis says quietly after a minute of silence. Kieran snaps his gaze to his brother who has a splenetic glint in his gaze as his eyes stare into the cavern. 

A protective flame of anger ignites itself in his chest and he reaches over and shoves Elis’s arm, enough pressure to actually move his older brother, but Elis must’ve anticipated it, because he doesn’t meet Kieran’s eyes, just sighs and looks down at his hands resting over the railing.

“What the fuck?” Kieran snaps. “You think I’m just- just _using them_ for my transition therapy? Are you that daft?!”

“Well I know Marcy couldn’t afford to fund it all herself, nor could she acquire the means to actually take you to St. Mungos as often as you’ve needed during your transition,” Elis shoots back, cracking his knuckles before turning his eyes over to give Kieran a hard stare. “And you still refuse to live with them. It doesn’t sound so foolish, if you think about it.”

“I don’t want to think about it!” Kieran says so harshly it is nearly a snarl. “Mum and Dad love me! They support me! They always have, my entire life! They are not using my therapy treatments as a way to keep me with them, nor am I using them just for the therapy!” He turns his body now, slightly, resting his right arm on the banister top and gesturing loosely with his left hand as he stares up into Elis’s eyes. “I am so lucky that they can afford to give me the treatments I need, and I do not take them for granted! I admit that there have been times where I would prefer to go to my appointments at St. Mungos alone, but I never deny them coming with me because they enjoy going, and, yes, they _are_ the ones paying for it. The least I could do to try to repay them is spend time with them when they request it of me! But I love them, Elis! Would you say that you don’t?”

His voice cracks slightly as he asks the painful final sentence of his monologue, and he watches Elis’s face carefully as Elis does the same to him. Elis’s eyes scan over his face, regard his hair, then trail down to note his jumper and scarf before he sighs. Elis reaches out slowly, trailing his first two fingers along Kieran’s jaw with a tired yet relieved expression that confuses Kieran deeply. He finally gently adjusts Kieran’s scarf before he mutters, “Of course I love them. I love them despite it all. But I don’t like them. I don’t understand how you can.”

Kieran feels something in his chest ache as Elis’s fingers leave his skin, and he swallows with difficulty, turning his eyes down and shifting his body to hunch over the railing again. He wishes Elis would show more affection toward him like that. He’s wished for it for years to the point that during the rare occasions that his brother does give him these small doses of tenderness, Kieran nearly wishes he just neglected Kieran all together, if only to spare him the pain of craving something he can never bring himself to ask for. He feels the idle touch of Jason’s palms on his cheeks, and quickly pulls his scarf up over his mouth to hide the way he bites his lip to keep it from trembling. Small doses of tenderness indeed.

“You mean to tell me that even though you still choose to live with Marcy, that has nothing to do with your feelings toward Mum and Dad?” Elis asks quietly after a pause.

“It had everything to do with my feelings toward them at first,” Kieran says blatantly, with an edge of irritation. “After the war ended, I realized how much I loved the peacefulness of living with Marcy. I finally truly understood why you left. But they were so hurt- they tried to hide it, but even I am perceptive enough to have seen through their veil. They didn’t want to lose me like they’d lost you, and I didn’t want to hurt them, truly.”

“And you believe I left because I wanted to hurt them?” Elis says with a dangerous quietness of his tone. Kieran can feel that his brother is looking out at the gap again.

“No. You left because you wanted away from the arguing. Their volatile household forced you to mature and make the decision to leave when you were nine years old. I’m sure you didn’t care that they were hurt because they’d hurt you, but you left because you wanted out. You wanted a calmer life.” Kieran begins picking at another chip of wood.

“I wanted you to go with me,” Elis returns in a whisper.

“I was seven. I was scared. I didn’t want the fighting, nor did I want to lose my brother,” Kieran mumbles back acidically. “You did what you felt you needed to do, and you’ve turned out better for it. But you left me, neglected me all the same as they did, just differently.”

“I tried to protect you-” Elis protests sharply.

“You left me,” Kieran cuts him off, shooting his brother a dark glare that’s strong enough to silent him, though his eyes are protesting loudly as his lips purse into a thin line. “I don’t hate you for it, I don’t even dislike you for it. Leaving made you happier, but you will not look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t abandon me there, alone.”

There’s several heartbeats where the brothers glare at each other, and Kieran sighs, the first to look away, hunching his shoulders more and physically trying to cut himself off from Elis’s stare. He fights back the tears trying to well in his eyes and the burning desire to cry that blazes in his throat. He breathes deeply, and listens as Elis quietly exhales and turns away, finally.

“I like living with Marcy. She and I are a lot alike, and she supports me just as much as Mum and Dad do. She helps me not be scared of things so often. She’s trying to teach me how to drive, for Salazar’s sake.” Kieran huffs and reaches up to ruffle his hair. Thinking of his aunt warms him slightly, it carefully eases the emotions weighing in his chest. “She wasn’t ready to be a parent when she took me in. And she never tried to be my mother. But she’s taken care of me, and she’s never judged me for how I choose to handle my relationship with Mum and Dad.”

“I’m not trying to judge you for your relationship with them,” Elis says with exhaustion. “I just don’t understand it, Kieran. And I… I want you to try to understand why I just don’t want to have a relationship with them. My life is just fine without them.”

“I just think you’re angry and that being angry gives you an excuse to never forgive them,” Kieran mumbles.

“And what if I do never forgive them? Are they so deserving of my forgiveness? You don’t know anything about the ways our upbringing with them has affected me.”

“No, but I know very well how it affected me,” Kieran sneers, though with less acid than before. “Besides, Marcy says forgiveness isn’t about the person you’re forgiving. It’s about _you._ Aunt Charlotte agrees. Forgiving is to allow yourself to accept what transpired and allow yourself to move on. You allow the dark clouds to evaporate so that you may see forward. You don’t have to forget what they’ve done, but you allow yourself to move forward.”

There is a pause. “You speak as though you’ve forgiven them for what they did to you,” Elis says, his voice just above a whisper.

Kieran considers this, and he sighs yet again. He looks out over the trees and water and the faint creatures flying in the distance, considering his words carefully. He thinks of the years of screaming matches while he sat alone in the garden or on the stairs, the weeks of his mother evaporating for “business” trips, leaving him alone with a resentful but attentive father. He thinks of the binder comfortably flexing against his ribs and the artificial testosterone slowly seeping into his body. He thinks of lips and hands on his face and a compliment of _pretty_ that is partially lost to oblivion. “If I held on to everything about my life that should make me bitter and resentful, I’d be a truly miserable, sour tart whom no one would ever want to be around. And I’m already so weird that at that point, I would be truly irredeemable,” he says, allowing a glance over and finding Elis watching him with a careful gaze. “I suppose I have forgiven them. I know they never argued and ignored us out of malice, no matter how detrimental their actions were. I see the efforts they make to be better now. The way they make efforts for me is enough for me to forgive them and allow us all to try to move on.”

Elis sighs and Kieran watches him run a hand through his hair. He idly notes that his brother could use a trim. “I suppose you’re a saint then, compared to me,” Elis says as a bitter joke, crossing his arms on the railing. He hesitates, and Kieran watches as his expression softens back to tiredness, resolve of some kind. “But I’m not ready… to forgive them yet. I’m not… I can’t do that now. And I don’t think I’ll have done it by graduation either.”

Kieran looks at Elis’s crossed arms, and he bites his lip again, though he exhales through his nose and lets his scarf drop back around his neck. He shuffles over a step and leans gently against Elis’s side, resting his head against his brother’s shoulder. “I’m hardly a saint. And anyone who tried to compare us as such would find themselves bruised and battered.” He lands a swift jab of his fist against Elis’s right arm, and his brother flinches with a noise of protest. “That includes you, Elis,” Kieran adds, tilting his chin up with defiance.

“Why did you turn out so aggressive?” Elis grumbles, rubbing his arm now, though there is the faintest smile on his lips. “Would we blame Mum and Dad for this too? Though they were never violent, so perhaps it’s just a quirk of your _weirdness_ .”   
  
Kieran shrugs and tilts his head back toward the chasm. “Words are hard. It’s much easier to make a point with actions.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think you really think either one through, your words _or_ your actions.”

“Hm… I feel like I’ve heard that several times before…”

There’s a few minutes of silence that is finally somewhat comfortable, and Elis whispers with a small tilt of his head towards Kieran, “I suppose I can at least be civil with them. For the sake of graduation, at least.” Kieran smiles softly, idly noting the relief of the replacement of his usual expression, and he tightens his folded arms against his chest. He supposes that is enough for now.


End file.
